Memories
by MoonInLove07
Summary: Years passed, everyone changed jobs. The BAU was too hard, too ungrateful. But Spencer Reid was still praying for them. And he knew that they did the same. One-Shot.


**DISCLAIMER:** I DON'T OWN ANYTHING.

 _A/N:_ Hello! I'm here again to bring you this little story. I hope you like it.

Small drops of water pounded against the window, dragging any speck of dust from that old glass. Spencer closed his eyes and smiled. He loved rain.

That was a meteorological gift that cheered his nefarious day. The storms relaxed him and made the whole town take a good bath. Water falling from the sky purified the environment.

The man opened his eyes and turned his back to that huge window of his old apartment. That place was full of dirt and that was something that really desperate him.

Spencer walked to his library, which was now empty. For years nobody enjoyed that covered his reading chair, like a filthy thick blanket. He pursed his lips. That was really unpleasant.

He grabbed the vacuum and began to remove the dirt from every corner, cleaned each piece of furniture and threw everything unusable into the trash.

An hour and a half later, that room looked just like he remembered it. Cozy, clean, full of life.

Spencer didn't know why he wanted to live there again. But there was a desire in the depths of his heart, something inexplicable that shouted that this was his home. That house in which he had been so happy. That house where he had cried for Maeve, where he had laughed with his friends. He needed to return to the place where he lived with his mother until God gave her celestial wings. That house saw his mother die and his first-born Adam birth.

Sarah loved that house. Those four walls had witnessed the blossoming of their love, their first fights and reconciliations. That was already part of their lives.

His honey-colored eyes rested on an aging little trunk. He reached down to pick it up and stroked it with his fingertips. A warm smile crossed his face.

 _"It's very pretty, Garcia" the young Doctor whispered, still enraptured with that precious wood "Thank you so much"_

 _The blonde woman smiled sweetly at the same time that she placed a lock of his hair behind his ear, in an almost maternal gesture._

 _"Both JJ and Derek insisted_ _anything about_ Game of Thrones _would be your perfect gift. But I knew that this was something especially perfect for you, my beloved genius."_

 _Spencer looked at that little trunk. In the upper part someone had carved a dragon face and painted his iris in a violet color that contrasted with the darkness of the wood._ _Undoubtedly, that was a very personal gift for his 30th birthday._

 _"You know, I have another little treasure like this, well, it's not the same"_ _she moved her hand_  
 _"Instead of a dragon there is a unicorn. It has become the trunk of my memories"_

He raised his eyebrows as he nodded.

"I think that's a very good idea"

Spencer sighed deeply and decided to open that trunk with trembling fingers. First of all, a pair of golden earrings from her mom appeared. They were moon shaped and he bought them with his first salary. He could still remember the illusion in Diana's eyes. Some chess pieces, some old and some broken. But it was the chess of his mentor, his friend, of that man who taught him so much. He who for a few years was like his father. Jason Gideon.

A baseball cap from that legendary match that the FBI won thanks to his good play. The last pacifier of Henry LaMontagne. A micro story that David Rossi wrote based on his own person. A small red phone booth that Emily Prentiss brought from London. A smiling little Buddha that Emily Prentiss brought from China. An Eiffel Tower, a bullring, a Roman coliseum, a pyramid. Dozens of miniatures of international monuments that Prentiss gave him over the years.

The first ultrasound of his son. The invitation to Hank's first birthday. A photo of Penelope Garcia on her wedding day. A picture of Jack Hotchner on his first day as a policeman. Drawings by Jack, Henry, Michael, Hank. Drawings by his children, Adam and Monica. Alex Blake FBI badge. And finally, a book and a photo album.

 **The Narrative of John Smith**. A chill ran down his spine and settled in his chest. Almost twenty years later, that wound was still hurting. No, it was not a scar. Maeve Donovan's goodbye was still bleeding in his heart.

However, Spencer opened that book only to read that phrase once more:

 **Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone; we find it with another.**

Spencer pursed his lips. If only he could tell Maeve how right she was. If only he could thank her for having loved his tormented soul. Thanks to her, he discovered that there is always a place for love in the world. Despite left the book on his desk and grabbed the photo album.

Spencer had to smile. That was not just images. Those were vivid memories, marked by fire in his heart.

Jason Gideon, Elle Greenaway, Ashley Seaver, Alex Blake, Kate Callahan, Derek Morgan, Aaron Hotchner, Penelope Garcia, Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi, Tara Lewis, Luke Alvez... His family.  
His first family before he formed his own with Sarah.

Trips, dinners, parties, birthdays, Christmas. Hundreds, thousands of moments lived with those who were once strangers but now were still part of him. Although they just kept the contact right now.

Years passed, everyone changed jobs. The BAU was too hard, too ungrateful. But Spencer Reid was still praying for them. And he knew that they did the same.

"Who are these people?"

He was so absorbed in his memories that he didn't listen to his little steps. Jason, his five-year-old son, was looking at him with a frown. He was on tiptoe, trying to see those photos better.

Spencer sat him on his lap while he kissed him on the temple.

"They are not people, son. It's part of my family and it was with all of them that I lived the best years of my life."


End file.
